


Take Off The Collar

by Higuchimon



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 2014 Advent Calendar Challenge (Digimon), Diversity Writing Challenge, Gen, Monthly Restrict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-05
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:03:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2724842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higuchimon/pseuds/Higuchimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World.  His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends.  His voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Up A Tree

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 1: Up A Tree  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 2,049||story: 2,049  
 **Genre:** Drama, Adventure|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Advent Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place about seven years after the defeat of BelialVamdemon, so Takeru is currently eighteen. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

His hands scrambled once again at the black leather collar around his neck. Visually it could be considered attractive, if one were into that kind of thing, sleek and tight-fitting, with a silver clasp that he couldn’t get to open no matter how hard he tried. 

_She said no one human could open it. How?_ Even after having seen all the strangeness that the Digital World could offer since he was eight years old, Takeru still found himself surprised on multiple occasions by some of the twists and turns. 

Well, if humans couldn’t open it, then maybe a Digimon could. He knew that none of _her_ court would do it. None of them would take a chance to stand against her. So he would have to find one of his friends and hope that they could help him. 

He could hope. He was really good at hoping, no matter the odds. 

Which was why he kept on tugging at the clasp, even when he couldn’t see it, much less get it to open. The clasp itself was at the very back and he had to fumble for it every time. No matter how hard he tried, it remained stubbornly closed. He wondered if it would’ve made sense if he could see it. It certainly didn’t when he couldn’t. 

He leaned back against the tree, taking deep gulping breaths. He needed to get himself calmed down and figure out how to get from here to where the others were. Or a way back to where they were. 

_Yeah, if I knew where I was, that would be a big help too. And if I had my D-3._ He thought it might be with them. He _wanted_ it to be with his friends. The idea of it being with _her_ sent a dark twist of anger surging through him, one he had to fight down before it could overwhelm him. Getting angry wasn’t going to help him through this. If anything, it would help her find him. 

Another shudder wrenched through him at the memory. That was how she’d found him in the first place. Or at least she’d said so, and he didn’t have any reason to doubt that, not with how she’d read his every emotion with barely a twitch of one eyebrow. 

Takeru closed his eyes and breathed again, harder, longer, deeper, trying to get himself to a point where he could think and not just react. The problem with that was that he needed to react, to do something, and with part of his attention eternally perked to keep watch for any sign that any of her warriors might be heading this way, he just couldn’t calm down the way he wanted to. 

Seven years after the rebirth of the Digital World, thanks to Oikawa’s sacrifice, and they were still charting and mapping the place, and Takeru still believed that it changed sometimes, possibly just to annoy them. Mr. Takenouchi, Koushirou, and Kido Shuu hadn’t disproved the theory, though they hadn’t proven it, either. What that meant for all practical purposes for him at the moment was that he had only his current experiences to go by when it came to finding out where he was. 

It had been a very long time since he'd had to move through the Digital World with one ear cocked and one eye open whenever he tried to sleep. But old habits came back quickly when in need, and Takeru found himself halfway up the tree before he consciously processed that he'd heard voices coming toward him. 

He really, really missed Patamon right now. He would've had his choice of evolutions to defend himself with his partner there, and not have to climb a tree at all. Or rather, he would have if he'd had Patamon, his D-3, and D-Terminal, and he suffered a horrible lack of all of those. All of them taken away from them by _her_. 

Again he had to wrench down his anger and stuff it away where no one could see it, least of all her. He couldn't know yet if those voices were hers or those who served her, but he didn't dare take the chance. He'd been able to escape once. If he ended up back with her, then she likely wouldn't give him the chance to do so again. 

He made it up to the highest branches that could support his weight and gripped as hard as he could, not wanting to give away by the slightest movement of the tree that he was there at all. Maybe once he knew who these voices belonged to, but not now. Not when he couldn't trust anything or anyone. 

“Any sign of him?” A question that almost anyone could've asked, but Takeru recognized that guttaral voice and bit back a silent sigh. Of course. He couldn't have been found by any of his friends, or even other Chosen Children or those partnered with Digimon that he hadn't met yet. No, it had to be _him_. 

Dark Lizarmon. Takeru silently rubbed his left arm; the burn scar there would last a long, long time. The only reason it hadn't been any worse was because _she_ insisted that her second in command cease the beating. 

“I'm sure he's learned his lesson,” she'd said in that sickeningly sweet voice of hers, lifting his chin with one slender finger, staring into his eyes. “Haven't you, my dear?” 

He'd done nothing. He would not admit to 'learning' anything from her or her minions, and he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of 'taming' him. 

“A few footprints, but not enough to be certain of where he's going,” came an answer. It wasn't a voice Takeru recognized and he couldn't get a good enough look to see who it was. He was good with that, though. He didn't care to know all of the people who lived in her court. The ones he did know were more than enough. 

“What about you?” Dark Lizarmon asked, and this answer sent more chills down Takeru's back than anything else did, because he _did_ recognize that voice, and the words were even worse. 

“His scent is weak, but here. He's not far away,” BlackAgumon, whose nose was every bit as sharp as that of Taichi's Agumon. Takeru bit his lip, then stopped, not wanting to take the chance that BlackAgumon might catch even the faintest hint of blood. 

Damn it. What could he do to get out of this? Nothing; he'd trapped himself by going up this tree. If they figured out where he was, then it would be way too easy to get him down. If the third member of their search party wasn't someone who could just climb up and knock him down, then Dark Lizarmon could burn the tree down, or BlackAgumon could simply shake him out of it. 

They hadn't found him yet, so he still clung to the hope that they wouldn't, as much as he clung to the tree branch. A small trickle of thankfulness swept through him for the collar, one that he tried to fight back as much as he did his loathing of their mistress. So long as it remained on him, he couldn't make any kind of verbal sound that would give away his location. It was a small blessing, but he took them where he could find them. 

“There are some good hiding places around here,” Dark Lizarmon mused. “I saw a cave over in those mountains, and the trees are pretty thick here as well.” 

Takeru closed his eyes tightly and tensed all over. _Go look at the mountains, go look at the mountains._ Anywhere but here, anywhere that would distract them long enough for him to climb down and find a better place to hide, one that had a way for him to get out if they found that too. 

“I'll find his trail,” BlackAgumon declared, and Takeru wished he'd thought harder about hiding it. If he'd known that her best tracker would come after him, then he would have. 

He should've guessed that, really. But he'd been so focused on just getting out of there that he hadn't thought about who she would send in pursuit of him. After nearly a month of her 'hospitality', the only thing he could think of _was_ escape. 

A careful peek through the leaves showed him the group as they searched around beneath him. He recognized Dark Lizarmon and BlackAgumon easily enough; the third was one that he'd seen lurking around the edges of the court, but hadn't ever seen doing anything constructive. If he'd had Patamon around, he would've dismissed a simple Gazimon as being nothing at all to worry about. In this situation, he didn't want to find out what Paralyze Breath could do to him personally. The name of the attack alone told him why the Digimon was along. 

BlackAgumon sniffed around, casting this way and that in search of Takeru's scent. Takeru kept himself even tighter wrapped around the tree branch and hoped that just this once, something would happen to distract them. Maybe the other Chosen would attack her people and she would recall these three to deal with it. Maybe they'd just lose the trail altogether and wander off in search of it. _Anything_. He wasn't particular. 

“It's stronger this way.” And they were coming right toward his tree. Takeru pressed his head against the branch and huffed quietly. Of course. Of course they would find him. After the month he'd had, he really shouldn't have expected anything less. 

He still didn't see any reason to give up, though. They hadn't found him yet, and until the moment that they did, and likely not even then, he believed he could find a way out of the situation. 

Was the branch sturdy enough to hold him if he stood up? Takeru took a careful look at it. He hadn't wanted to get up to the absolute height, to where any passing flying Digimon could spy him, so the branches around here weren't too thin. So, maybe... he could take the chance. 

Exercising every bit of caution he could manage while running from an evil Digimon queen, her equally as evil servants, and attempting to walk on a tree branch while being far too up in the tree – Daisuke would've been _so_ proud of him for this, too – Takeru stood up and balanced himself, taking in quick breaths of air to stay steady. 

One step. And another. And another. He couldn't hear anything from below, and that bolstered his confidence. Maybe they'd wandered off somewhere. Despite what he'd heard - and seen with BlackAgumon tracking other escaped prisoners – he couldn't be that good, could he? There had to be a time when his nose failed him. 

He moved again. The branch he aimed for stretched to a taller tree, with thicker branches up higher. He would've tried for that one when first climbing if he'd been able to, but it didn't have enough sturdy boughs close enough to the ground for him to get up there. 

Takeru moved one foot at a time, mostly to avoid any creaking noises or falling leaves that might give him away. Even if they'd been talking down below, he didn't know if he would've heard them. All of his focus remained on moving over to that other tree. That one looked to have branches that spread out to still more trees, which meant that if he had even a little bit of luck, he might be able to get out of here, without leaving any kind of a scent trail for BlackAgumon to follow him by. 

All of the branches looked sturdy enough to support his weight. He kept his sighs of relief to himself for the moment, taking each step with the full knowledge that if anything snapped underneath him, his options from that moment rated from an embarrassing fall that would likely have him singing soprano for days to crash landing right in the middle of the searchers or breaking his neck. 

On a scale of bad to worse, he decided that landing in front of Gazimon, BlackAgumon, and Dark Lizamon probably outranked breaking his neck. 

And then his foot slipped. 

**To Be Continued**


	2. Out Of The Tree

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 2: Out Of The Tree  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 2,071||story: 4,120  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Adventue Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

Takeru didn't play basketball for nothing. Even as his foot slipped, he jumped forward, convincing his body that he was just going for a basket, he was not all trying to save his own life, and even if he was, there wasn't a yawning expanse of empty air between himself and the ground. All he needed to do was land safely on that tree branch not far away and he would be fine. 

“Did you hear something?” BlackAgumon's voice wafted up from below. Takeru wished they would shut up. He couldn't save himself if he kept getting distracted by them talking. 

With a small _whuff_ , he landed on his target and wrapped his arms tightly around the tree trunk. Now he wanted to convince his body that he hadn't just pulled off a miracle and get it to calm down so he could think up another one to get out of here altogether. 

“No. What do you think it was?” Dark Lizarmon asked. Takeru refused to look at them. He didn't want to know what they were doing, except for getting out of here and as far away from him as they could. 

“I'm not sure.” Was that sniffing? It probably was. “Gazimon?” 

“I heard it too.” If Takeru could've made an audible sigh, he would have. It still wasn't the worst it could be. That wouldn't happen unless he was brought back to _her_. 

He tried not to breathe too hard at the thought of that. With the kinds of trackers who were on his trail, any kind of noise could be dangerous. 

He leaned up against the tree trunk and tried to figure out his next move. As long as they lurked down at the bottom, almost anything could happen, and probably would. He needed to just get away from them, if they weren't going to be kind enough to get away from him. 

So, he had two choices at the moment: he could either stay where he was and hope that they missed him, going on to search other areas, or keep trying to move on out of there and hope that they didn't notice his scent or that he wouldn't make some kind of a noise that would get their attention. Or that he already hadn't and that was what they'd heard. 

_If I stay here, they'll find me for sure._ He wasn't good at divining the odds, but he decided to take the chance anyway. He could not let himself be taken back to _her_. 

They were talking among themselves now, too low for him to hear. He was fine with that. He inched along more carefully, checking for the next branch that would get him farther away from them. He kind of wished that he'd found himself a cave system or something like that he could've hidden in, instead of these trees that didn't offer nearly as much protection as he thought he needed while being chased by three relentless trackers. 

“And just what do you think you're doing up there?” A deep voice suddenly asked. 

Takeru would've groaned, if it would've made a sound when he did. As it was, he shook his head as hard as he could, looking around for whoever had spoken. 

“Well? Aren't you going to answer me?” The branches shifted underneath him and Takeru jumped back, clinging, trying to figure out who was talking. A Digimon, yes, but he couldn't tell which one. He didn't see anything unusual, just the trees... 

A tree with eyes, now focusing on him. _Jureimon._ That wasn't so bad; Juriemon weren't always like the one Yamato had told him about, deceptive and underhanded. He had to hope that this one was dsifferent. 

“Say something, boy!” Juriemon snapped, branches wavering underneath Takeru. “Don't you know how to apologize for climbing all over someone?” 

Takeru waved his hands as best that he could, trying to convey that he hadn't meant any harm at all. He _wanted_ this collar off, he ached so much with the need to actually say something! 

“One uses a voice to speak, child.” Juriemon pulled a branch closer: the one that Takeru was clinging to. “Don't you have a voice?” 

Well, he could answer that, at least. He shook his head as hard as he could and motioned to the collar around his neck. Juriemon's giant brows furrowed. 

“What is this?” 

Takeru wished he had some way to tell the great tree Digimon to be quiet. They weren't that far away from where Gazimon, BlackAgumon, and Dark Lizamon searched. For all he knew, they were already on the way. Enough bad things had happened to him that he wasn't going to rule the idea out altogether. 

“Oh, ho, I see, you've gotten into trouble with _her_.” Juriemon shook his head in sympathy. “You certainly don't pick your enemies wisely, do you?” 

Takeru rolled his eyes and slumped his shoulders for a moment. He hadn't picked her to start with. She'd been the one to pick him, snapping him up from the others as if she'd been picking items at a candy counter. 

_“Oh, how precious! So pretty!” Tree branches wrapped around him tightly, pulling him closer to her. He struggled, even as Angemon darted closer, trying to get to him. “Oh, go away. You're not as pretty as your little human friend is. I don't want anything to do with **you**!” _

“I'm afraid we come as a set,” Angemon declared, preparing one of his attacks. She didn't even look away from Takeru as one of the tree branches she controlled smacked Angemon out of the sky. 

“Then I'm breaking the set. You're going to come live with me, human,” she said, smiling down at him. “And you're going to stay with me **forever**.” 

Takeru wanted to tell her that he had plans for forever, but a leaf wrapped itself around his lips before he could open his mouth properly. 

“I'm not interested in what your voice can do, my dear,” Dryamon told him, a sweet, sickly smile turning her lips upward. “I have so many other uses for you than that.” 

Takeru could already count the number of nightmares he was going to have about this. He could see Angemon getting back into the air, shaking himself off and starting toward them again, even more furious than before. He did his best to cry out, though the gag kept him quiet regardless of his efforts. 

“You again?” Dryamon stood up straighter, her eyes flashing in fury. “What do I have to do to keep you down?” 

“That won't happen, not so long as you threaten Takeru!” Angemon declared, raising his rod. 

Dryamon lifted her head, a glimmering golden glow enveloping her. Takeru had never seen her attack before – he hadn't even known she existed before her sudden attack – but he could recognize the beginnings of it anyway. “Luminous Beauty!” The glow shot forth in a pale image of her own face, knocking hard into Angemon, sending him flying backwards. Takeru just managed to catch a glimpse of his partner reverting to Patamon and tried to reach for him, wriggling one hand free of his bonds. 

“Now, now, none of that,” Dryamon swatted at his hand as if he were a child who needed correction. “It's time to go.” She raised her voice to get the attention of her followers. “I have what I wanted, come along now.” 

All of the others who'd come with her, an odd collection of Virus and Data types, dropped whatever they were doing and headed back toward her. Takeru had no idea of how she had any control over them, and could only squirm helplessly in his bonds as he was taken away with them. 

A slender twig tapped at his forehead and Takeru refocused on the situation in front of him. Juriemon did not look happy. 

“Dryamon's servants are scouring the woods looking for you, boy.” 

Takeru nodded; he'd known that already. He tugged harder at the collar, remembering suddenly what Dryamon had told him before, that only a Digimon could remove the collar. Or that a human couldn't, anyway. He looked at Jureimon and waved furiously at the collar, hoping to get his message across. He wished that he had something he could write with. Why hadn't he thought to bring a notebook? His D-Terminal could've been useful, if Dryamon hadn't confiscated it along with his D-3 after their arrival in her castle. 

_I still don't know why she wanted me._ She hadn't seemed inclined to let him know, either, but treated him as something of a prized pet, collar and leash included. At least he got a private place to sleep, even if that was just a large pillow in her own room. He would have much preferred his own bed, but it could've been worse. 

Juriemon tapped him again. “Pay attention! You want that off, don't you?” 

Juriemon had understood him! Takeru could've thrown a party with his relief. He nodded as swiftly as he could and tilted his head back in anticipation. He could feel Jureimon's twig moving underneath it, and then - 

“I would not do that if I were you, Jureimon.” 

Another silent groan and Takeru turned to see BlackAgumon, Dark Lizamon, and Gazimon standing there. 

_I wonder if this collar has a curse on it. Can Dryamon curse people?_ He didn't know, but he wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest. With the way everything else was going at the moment, he decided he would just be grateful that Dryamon herself hadn't turned up. At least not as of yet. 

Juriemon turned his stern gaze onto the three there. “And who are you to decide what I should or should not do? This is a Chosen Child, not one of your mistress's slaves.” 

Takeru decided right then that he _liked_ this Juriemon. He had a good head on his branches. 

“But he does belong to her. You can see the collar right there,” Dark Lizamon pointed out. 

Takeru shook his head at once and took a careful step back, doing all that he could to indicate that he wasn't her property, short of making rude gestures. 

“Which I will be removing.” Juriemon started to reach for Takeru again, only to freeze this time as Gazimon suddenly shot in front of the blond, claws wrapping around the teenager's neck. “What do you think you're doing?” 

That was exactly what Takeru wanted to know, jerking as far back from Gazimon's far too sharp claws as he possibly could. 

“It's simple. He belongs to Lady Dryamon. We are taking him back to her. He might be bruised when we get there, but we're going.” He wrapped his other arm around Takeru's waist and jerked him down, not caring that they both stood a ridiculous distance from the ground. 

Dark Lizamon leaped up, catching Takeru halfway, and dropping him back down to the ground. His grip was as strong as Gazimon's, which meant Takeru knew he had little chances of breaking it. That didn't mean he didn't try, though. He slammed one knee into the Digimon, making a soundless gasp of effort, and shoved with every bit of his strength. 

Finding humans who were strong enough to fight against Digimon wasn't easy. Many would've said it was impossible. Takeru would've said that it depended on the human and the Digimon. Right now, with every ounce of his being dedicated to not getting caught and dragged back to Dryamon, he had something of an advantage. It was a small one, the advantage of a cornered beast, a wild thing desperate to escape at any cost. 

In this one moment, it worked. Dark Lizamon stumbled back, taken just enough off guard by the sudden strike for his grip to loosen. Takeru pulled himself away, hissing silently as Dark Lizamon's claws scraped on his arms. Streaks of blood sprang up, with shots of pain radiating outward. 

He would take care of them another time. He didn't trust any medical care that Dryamon might've wanted to give him, much less what price she might want to extract from him as a result of it. 

With all the speed that he could muster, he turned and pelted out of there. He would've preferred staying long enough to let Jureimon get rid of the collar, but not when it came to having to fight for it against those three. 

**To Be Continued**


	3. Into The Woods

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 3: Into The Woods  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 2,106||story: 6,226  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Adventue Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

Dark Lizarmon hissed under his breath as his mistress's prey scampered deeper into the woods. He liked a good hunt, but this was getting out of hand. Couldn't the boy simply accept his place at Dryamon's feet and be done with it? It wasn't as if she intended to reformat him. Though she had every right to do so if that were what she _wanted_ to do. Blood debts needed to be repaid, no matter how long it took. 

He wondered if the Child of Hope even understood why Dryamon wanted him. He had his doubts on that. Dryamon hadn't gone out of her way to let him know just yet, letting him believe it was a simple desire for a pretty toy. 

If that was what she wanted him to think, then he would not be the one to tell the boy otherwise. He would not, he could not, go against the will of his lady. 

Gazimon stared after the fleeing boy, then looked toward Dark Lizamon. “Are we going after him?” 

“Yes.” What else were they going to do? Dryamon had told them not to come back without him, and he would never disobey her commands. He wasn't entirely certain if he could, and he didn't want to find out. 

Jureimon shuffled closer to them, his branches waving in a threatening manner. “You and your lady should leave that child alone. What harm has he done to you? He and his have only protected this world!” 

“And their protection is exactly why she claims him,” Dark Lizamon said, barely looking away from what little trail the boy had left behind him. He was a swift runner, and since he knew who tracked him, he'd likely use whatever knowledge he had to break his trail as soon as he could. This would not be an easy hunt. 

He tried not to feel too happy about that. This wasn't meant to be a pleasurable trip. This was his lady's command. 

Jureimon started to say something else and Dark Lizamon cut him off. “If you interfere again, you'll be reformatted. My lady will not tolerate it.” 

He didn't wait to see what, if any, reaction the great tree had, but gestured to his companions and headed further into the woods. Part of him wanted to give the blond as much of a head start as he could. If this were to be a good hunt, then the prey needed every advantage that he could acquire. 

Dark Lizamon couldn't yet guess how Gazimon or BlackAgumon would feel about this, but he had his suspicions. BlackAgumon wouldn't care. He came along only to track the boy. Gazimon lusted after the rewards Dryamon had promised for his safe return. So long as they captured and brought him back in one piece, then Gazimon didn't care what else happened. 

_We must prevent him from finding the other Chosen._ That would be the difficult part. This section of the Digital World remained separate from most of the others, divided by a high range of mountains that cupped it on three sides. The fourth was bounded by a broad lake almost wide enough to be called a sea. 

In point of fact, he thought one stretch of that sea came down not that far away. Takeru could well run into it if he took the correct path through the woods. 

Dark Lizamon stopped in his tracks, considering this. Gazimon and BlackAgumon both looked at him, confusion evident. 

“What is it?” 

“I think I know where we can find him, sooner or later. This will be much easier than tracking him as well.” He smiled, a flash of teeth that wouldn't have comforted any human seeing it. “Let's go.” 

Hunts were wonderful tools for amusement, but in the end, he served his lady best by results, not enjoyment. 

* * *

Takeru ducked and dodged through the trees, not caring about anything but getting as far away from the hunting party as he possibly could in the shortest amount of time. He still didn't entirely believe that he'd actually succeeded in escaping Dark Lizamon's grip the way that he had. But here he was, not a prisoner, even if the collar's grip remained snug around his neck. 

He ran until his breath gave out and he collapsed in the center of a clearing, taking in huge gulps of air. His legs ached. His chest throbbed. His lungs burned. His stomach twisted and begged for food that he didn't have to give it. 

He had to say that much for Dryamon, she'd set a good table. He didn't like being hand-fed by her, but the food had been good, regardless. And he would have traded every bit of it, then and now, to have the collar gone and to be back with his friends. 

Slumping down farther against the ground, he closed his eyes and fought to steady his breath. He needed to think clearly, to find his way out of here, and back to the parts of the Digital World that he knew. Then he could get in touch with the other Chosen, get the collar off, and everything would be back to normal. 

He reached up to rub at the collar, more from habit than anything else. It fit perfectly, not tight enough to constrict his breathing, not loose enough that he could peel it off. That only made him hate it all the more. 

Something was not right about Dryamon. He couldn't yet guess why, but there was an odd haunting familiarity about her that bothered him almost as much as everything she'd done to him. He knew that they hadn't met before she'd struck and taken him. Yet something still seemed as if he knew her. Or had met her, at least. 

He drew in another breath. Maybe Koushirou could figure it out, or Miyako. Someone who could trace Digimon evolution charts. Maybe she was someone they'd defeated in the past who'd taken a new course in her new life. Though she clearly held a grudge if that were the case. 

Though he would think if she were someone that they'd fought and beaten, she would've said something about it already, instead of keeping it to herself. He could be way off base with this. 

_Don't think it really matters right now. If I can get out of here, I should be safe._ He hoped that was true. He wanted it to be true with every ounce of his being. 

Slowly he pushed himself to his feet and looked around. This wasn't a good place for a nap, no matter how exhausted he was. There wouldn't be a good place until he could get back home. 

_One thing at a time. I need something to eat or I can't keep running._ He hadn't seen any fruit trees or anything else that would be edible around there. 

Fish? They'd had a lot of fish when they'd come to the Digital World the first time. The next step on that was finding a place he could fish at. A stream or a lake or even the ocean. How close was he to the ocean? 

No matter how much it hurt, he had to push himself onward until he found food. Or at least until he couldn't do it anymore and Dark Lizamon and the other two found him. 

No. He wasn't going to even consider that. That was not a thing that was going to happen, _ever_. He'd almost rather find himself a nice hungry Tyrannomon and _be_ dinner instead of eating dinner. 

Almost. That was something of an extreme last resort. 

Water. Ocean. River. Sea. Anything that had fish in it. That was what he wanted now and he turned all of his thoughts toward finding it. He missed his D-3 now more than ever; that could've given him at least some kind of an idea of where one might be. 

That also threatened to tug his thoughts back to Dryamon; he didn't know where she'd hidden it, and the loss of it felt akin to having a finger or toe missing. It wasn't as perfectly vital to his survival as his lungs and legs were, but he _missed_ it and he could've used it to make that survival a little more certain. 

About all he could do right now was pick a direction and hope that it led him to where he wanted to go. And possibly by somewhere he could get a drink. All of this running and panic hadn't done anything to make his parched throat ease up any. A nice little stream would be so useful right now. 

And he wouldn't find one if he didn't look for it. So he started walking, and put eighteen years of practice in hoping to work. 

* * *

Dryamon ran her fingers through her smooth fall of bark-brown hair, listening to the reports of her servants on the search for her plaything. None of them had anything interesting to report, but they hadn't all returned yet. She scanned the assembled group to determine who was missing. 

Dark Lizamon, BlackAgumon, and Gazimon. That was interesting; her finest hunters hadn't yet given up the hunt. Of course, they were her finest hunters: they did not give it up easily, nor would they. If any of them stood a chance to find that elusive little morsel, it would be these three. 

She burned with the desire to have him back at her feet. Her vengeance for his crimes hadn't even begun to be properly exercised as of yet. That couldn't begin until he knew exactly who she was and why she wanted to crush him entirely, to destroy his hope and make him nothing more than her eager and willing slave. And _that_ wouldn't begin until he'd cracked far more than he had already. 

For that, she needed him here, under her thumb, serving at her pleasure. The fact he'd had the unutterable gall to _run away_ infuriated her. He would be punished for that. She'd already made her mind up. With a snap of her fingers, her whip appeared in her hand, and she ran her fingers down it lovingly. She hadn't wanted to injure him, physically at least. But he'd brought this on himself, and she would make certain he understood that once he was brought back. 

The members of her court inched away ever so slightly at the sight of her whip. She used it seldom, but some among them bore the marks of her skill with it. There were almost always better ways for her to express her displeasure with those who served her. The whip of her words was far more to her taste than the one in her hand. 

Takeru would feel both once he'd been returned to her. And despite having no voice, he would beg for her forgiveness before she was done with him. 

* * *

Takeru fell to his knees and if he'd had a voice to do so with, he would've offered up a song of praise to someone. He scooped up handful after handful of fresh, clean, cold water and poured it down his throat, quenching his thirst at long last. 

He still didn't know how far away from Dryamon's court or the nearest exit to this area he was, or if he could find food anywhere. But he had water, and he was satisfied with that, at least for right now. 

_Probably not a good idea to go rushing off just yet,_ he decided, settling himself beside the tiny streamlet. All of them had boned up on survival methods and what to do or not do in certain tough situations, just in case. When you were the Chosen Children, anointed protectors of an entire world and could be trapped in that world at any point, for who knew how long, it paid to know points of interest, such as how long one could go without food or water, and to recognize edible wild plants. 

Granted, in the Digital World, not everything looked like the books said they would. Mimi was working on compiling a book about what was good to eat there and what wasn't. He would've given a lot for a copy of her notes right now. 

It also felt good to sit still and let himself rest. It couldn't be long. His original situation hadn't changed. But he'd worn himself out and he needed the rest. 

Slowly, without Takeru even realizing it, his eyes slipped shut, and he breathed in and out, the long, slow breaths of deep, restful sleep. 

In the woods nearby, eyes watched him. 

**To Be Continued**


	4. From Bad To Faumon

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 4: From Bad To Faumon  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 2,121||story: 8,387  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Adventue Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

In his dreams, Takeru could talk. The collar no longer fitted snug against his neck and he held his D-3 and D-Terminal close, Patamon resting on his head just as he usually did. He sat with his friends beside a river in the Digital World and didn't need to keep himself on guard for any of Dryamon's minions or the evil Digimon herself. 

In his dreams, he didn't have to worry at all about being attacked, because even if someone did, Patamon was there to help him, and so were the rest of his friends. 

Takeru knew that it couldn't last forever. Some part of him remained aware that he _was_ dreaming and this would all end far too soon. But he clung to it while he could. 

He could feel some sort of attention on him. It wasn't that surprising; there were Digimon everywhere in the Digital World. He wasn't sure who it was, or if it was dangerous. He knew that he needed to wake up and find out, but he'd run himself into the ground already. He just couldn't bring his tired limbs to stir more than the barest bit. 

A low, curious noise sounded, and he twitched. Not a sound he recognized as from any given Digimon, but a sound that he didn't like all the same. He tried to pry his eyes open, but the sound began to modulate itself into something much like a song, a low-voiced lyric that pulled at his thoughts and wound around them softly. 

Every instinct within him said to get up and get out of there. This was as dangerous a situation as dozing off next to Dryamon would have been. Perhaps even more so. 

A shadow fell near him, the singing growing just a trifle louder as it did. Not enough to truly wake him up, but Takeru wasn't certain if he was asleep at all anymore. Either way, he couldn't actually move. The song, far more melody than lyric, wove a strange and fair grip around him. Not just his thoughts now, but every part of him. If he'd been all the way awake when he'd heard it, he might've been able to resist. But he hadn't been. 

He wasn't certain when he'd opened his eyes, but now he could see a form near him. The shadows made it difficult to really get a good look at it, but he had an impression of something or someone tall and elegant. He strained at the melody holding him captive and wondered if he'd somehow acquired a curse without realizing it: Digimon who wanted to take him prisoner and do unspeakable things to him and he didn't know why. 

One finger brushed against his collar, and he was aware of a sharp talon at the end of that finger. “Dryamon's mark,” a quiet male voice murmured. “She seeks to claim you, I see.” 

Takeru did a mental eyeroll. _Welcome to the program._ He still couldn't see whoever this was and the voice didn't stir any memories either. But whoever it was knew Dryamon and that didn't immediately put him on Takeru's mental list of people he could trust. 

On the other hand, if this guy didn't like Dryamon, then perhaps he'd be willing to take off the collar, to annoy her. He hoped that would be possible. He hoped he could somehow convey his desire for that to this new person. 

The stranger rested one hand on Takeru's chest and stared down at him. “I wonder what she'd pay to have you back at her side.” 

Oh, _lovely_. Takeru managed to slam his head down on the ground beneath him, or at least to move his head enough to indicate that was what he wanted to do. Seriously, who had cursed him with this kind of bad luck? Whoever it was, he wanted them to take it off as soon as possible. 

“Ah, you're awake. Or as awake as I'll let you be,” the newcomer sounded almost smug. No, he was smug. Very smug, indeed. “Don't try to move that much. I won't let you and it will only hurt you in the long run. You're not going anywhere until I choose to let you go, and then you'll go where I want you to.” 

Takeru rolled his eyes again, if only in his mind. If this stranger was going to hand him back to Dryamon, he'd rather that happened as soon as possible and get it over with. He knew something of what to expect from her. This person was new and not to be trusted at all, not with how he spoke. 

The taloned finger moved up Takeru's chest to rest on his lips. “I do admire her work when it comes to silencing people. It's frustrating, isn't it? To have so much that you want to say and you can't make a single sound.” Takeru could see a smile now, thin lips and a short distance above them, eyes of molten silver. “Do you know why she did this to you?” The stranger paused, as if waiting for an answer, before his smile widened. “Oh, I keep forgetting. You can't answer, can you?” 

This wasn't even close to being funny by Takeru's standards, and yet the stranger laughed anyway, a deep, rich, rolling laugh that spoke of pure amusement. “It's how she shows her ownership, boy. If you can speak, you can say things that she doesn't want you to say. But with this collar on, not only does everyone in this land know that you are her chattel, but it proves to _you_ that she owns you.” 

Despite all the warnings, Takeru shook his head violently, wincing at the sudden sharp pain that rocked him as he did. The stranger tutted. “I told you not to do that. You should listen to your elders. Though in a sense, I suppose Dryamon is younger than you. It's difficult to compare human ages to Digimon at times.” 

Takeru couldn't disagree with that. He wasn't certain of how it related to Dryamon, but it was true even so. He wiggled again, ignoring the pain, and the stranger tutted once again. 

“Really. You're very feisty. I can see why she'd want to tame that out of you.” He regarded Takeru for a few moments. Takeru still couldn't get a very good look at his new captor, other than a flash of teeth and glittering silver eyes. “I suppose I really should take you back to her. It would be the brotherly thing to do. You understand about brothers, don't you, Takaishi Takeru?” 

Takeru drew in a sharp breath, eyes focusing on the being above him, questions written all over his face. He didn't know what they all were, but the one he knew the most was, _what in the name of everything are you talking about?_

“My name is Faumon.” He moved his head and now Takeru could see that, of all things, there were horns growing from the sides of his head. Not huge ones like Devimon's, but ones that reminded him of goat horns, only not that big, either. “Dryamon is my sister.” 

Again Takeru thumped his head on the ground, twitching at the pain that came from that. He didn't know what Faumon had done to him to make that happen, but it happened all the same. 

“Oh, you shouldn't be that upset. I haven't really decided if I'm going to hand you back to her. I'm sure she'd want me to,” Faumon mused, that taloned finger still resting on Takeru. “But as I'm also certain you know, brothers don't always do everything that their sisters want them to.” 

Takeru tried to close his eyes, more to convey how annoyed he as with all of this than anything else. Faumon tapped him on the chest. 

“Pay attention. It's rude to ignore people, dear boy,” Faumon said. “Now, just because I haven't doesn't mean I won't. Or will.” 

_He's doing this just to torture me._ Takeru could see the relationship between Faumon and Dryamon already. He wasn't sure how Digimon gained brothers or sisters, but they were two of a kind. Just what he'd always wanted. If always meant never. 

Faumon chuckled under his breath. Takeru didn't see anything to laugh about right now. He added something else to his mental list of what he wanted: in addiction to Patamon, his voice, his friends, and the collar off, he wanted Faumon to just _leave him alone_. He was almost as annoying as Dryamon, and likely not for lack of trying to be worse. 

“But if I don't give you over to her, then what should I do with you?” That talon brushed by the collar and for a single moment Takeru hoped harder than he ever had since he was eight years old. Perhaps Faumon would want to show his own mark somehow? He couldn't think of how, at least not in any way that didn't leave him hoping Faumon would leave the collar alone, but maybe... 

Faumon pulled his hand back, a teasing smile now curving his lips upward. “Oh, don't look like that. I'm not going to take that off of you. It's far too much fun to see you struggle against it.” He tapped one talon against the side of his cheek. “And yet, I can't just leave you here, either.” 

_Why not? All I was doing was taking a nap!_ Takeru inwardly raged. Faumon gave another stern look. 

“You're in my territory, on my lands, and I have every right to do anything that I want to you. Just as Dryamon has every right to do anything that _she_ wants to you. You caused her great trouble once upon a time, and she wants her vengeance.” 

Takeru froze at once. Did Faumon know something that he didn't about this whole mess with Dryamon? Better than that, would he actually tell him instead of vague hints and veiled words? 

“I think that she'll want to tell you that, when she thinks you've earned it. But I can tell you this much: almost no one in this part of the Digital World is going to help you the way that you want to be helped, and the ones that might? They know better than to go against Dryamon _or_ me.” Faumon's teeth gleamed as bright as his silver eyes. “We rule this land, she and I.” 

Yes, he'd gathered that much already. He still wanted to get out. Faumon still seemed more amused than anything else by him. Could one thing go right for him? Just _one_? He wasn't quite willing to admit that he'd found water and had a small nap and he did feel better, even though his stomach still kept cramping with the desire for food. 

Faumon stared down at him again, humming that odd tune under his breath, and Takeru found his eyes starting to slide together again. 

“I think for now I'm going to keep you. At least until I've made up my mind on what else to do with you. And I can tell how hungry you are. Don't worry. I can take care of that as well. But not here.” 

For all of his hunger, Takeru didn't like the sound of that at all. Faumon would want some sort of payment or would extract a price of his own choosing. Takeru _knew_ how this sort of thing worked after his time with Dryamon. 

Yet for all of his knowledge and all of his reluctance, he couldn't stop his eyes from closing once again as Faumon's song poured from his lips, low and rich and full and oh so enticing to make his eyes close and his mind slip away into the deepest confines of slumber, once more into that realm where he stood with his friends and his partner, and his voice rang out freely and he wanted nothing more than for this to be reality. 

* * *

As Takeru's eyes closed firmly and his muscles slacked into the ensorcled sleep, Faumon turned to where the three Digimon stood on the edge of the clearing. 

“Tell Dryamon that he's in _my_ possession now. And if she wants him back, she'd best be prepared to meet _my_ price.” The smile he smiled now held nothing of mockery or glee, but the sharp slash of cold fury. “And she already owes me a great deal.” 

Dark Lizamon bowed low. “As you wish, Faumon-sama.” 

Faumon returned his attention to Takeru, scooping him up in his arms and rising to his hooved feet. Dryamon's servants knew better than to attack him. With one last contemptuous glance toward them, he set off for his own home. 

**To Be Continued**


	5. Sunup To Sundown

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 5: Sunup To Sundown  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 2,151||story: 10,538  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Adventue Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

“Oh, Takeru!” Faumon's voice sang out and Takeru bit his lip as hard as he could, not caring if he drew blood or not. “Don't waste time now!” 

Takeru drew in a long, deep breath, fighting to keep what composure he could. He hadn't yet made up his mind on who was worse as a captor, Dryamon or Faumon, and he didn't think he cared that much. It simply gave him something to think about when he wasn't too exhausted to think. 

Which wasn't very often, in all truth. Faumon kept him running from dawn to dusk, and sometimes even after that. In fact, most times after that. Takeru didn't have a watch, but in the five days he'd been here, he knew that he hadn't fallen onto his little cot before midnight more than twice. 

If he didn't need to eat and have a place to sleep, he would've found a way to ruin as much as Faumon's possessions as he could. He would've done it anyway if he could've gotten out of there. But he'd found out the very first day that whatever coding Faumon used to protect his chosen territory meant that he himself couldn't cross out of it without Faumon having a hand on him. 

Which meant that as much as he did not want to, he had to play this Digimon's game, at least until he could find a way to get out of there on his own. 

So, he brought the heavy tray laden with food over to where Faumon relaxed on a wide grass-green couch. He ached to pretend to trip and spill it all over, but the one time he'd tried that, he'd not only been backhanded hard enough to leave a bruise that hadn't yet faded, but he hadn't eaten and had only been allowed a small amount of water for two days. 

Faumon's punishments were quick, brutal, and made certain the lesson sunk in. Takeru might not be certain who was worse as a captor, but he knew for a fact Faumon was more sadistic than Dryamon. 

He almost blessed Dryamon's collar, since it kept him from saying a lot of the words he wanted to thanks to Faumon's treatment of him. He still wanted it off, though. If he chose not to say something, he wanted to not say it because _he_ chose not to say it, not because he didn't have the ability to talk at all. 

He set the plates up on the broad table near Faumon, his jaw set and every movement jerky and annoyed. He couldn't make a mess, but he could at least make it clear with his body language how much he disliked all of this. 

Faumon caught his chin and tilted his head back so their eyes met. While his eyes glimmered pure silver, Takeru often thought he saw a hint of deep blue in their depths, a blue that made him uneasy. More so than everything else Faumon did. 

“You're becoming a very good servant. I really might have to look into keeping you on a long-term basis.” He smiled slowly, showing far more teeth than Takeru felt comfortable having near him. “Of course, I might have to do that anyway, since it doesn't seem as if my _dear_ sister is interested in reclaiming her property.” 

Takeru pulled his head back and started to the area designated as the kitchen. He could hear Faumon laughing still and blocked the sound out by washing dishes in the loudest and most annoying fashion he could without actually breaking them. 

He'd never encountered a Digimon who lived like Faumon did. Most of the ones he knew lived in small villages. He knew that Piemon and Vamdemon had both lived in castles, but he'd never actually spent time in any of those and had no idea of if they ate or who fixed it if they did. All these mundane chores didn't fit with the image of the Digital World as he'd had it. 

_Guess I still don't know everything._ He hadn't expected he had, but having it brought home to him like this didn't make him feel any better about it. 

He didn't dare completely ignore Faumon, but he managed to look busy enough that his 'master' didn't call him over until he'd finished all of the minor household chores that he needed to do: washing the dishes, sweeping and dusting, cleaning the floor thoroughly, and putting everything away that was even mildly out of place. He didn't think that Faumon deliberately created chores for him to do, but he wasn't altogether certain the other wasn't being a little messier than he normally would be. 

“I wonder if you're this helpful to your mother in your own world,” Faumon mused when Takeru finally came to pick up the dishes from dinner. “I'm certain you're not as quiet.” 

Any mention of the collar sent tension and anger coursing all through Takeru, and Faumon knew it. Which was why he did it whenever he could. Takeru stalked back to where he had to wash up and tried his best to focus on that. He'd gathered so far that Faumon and Dryamon had known one another in their previous lives, but hadn't been related then, or whatever their strange relationship was now. He'd also worked out that both of them had been Digimon he'd known in the past, but they'd apparently taken different evolution lines now. 

None of this had been directly said to him. Faumon much preferred dropping veiled hints and misleading words, and Takeru couldn't ask for more information. Even if he could, he doubted Faumon would've given it to him. So he had to work it out for himself and revised the theory whenever something new came up. 

“If she doesn't come for you, you really had best make your home with me.” Faumon stood behind him and Takeru had no idea of how he'd gotten there without him being aware of it. Faumon should not be able to move that quickly! 

Faumon traced the line of the collar and Takeru pulled away from his touch, shaking his head. He knew Faumon only meant to tease him. 

“I have a bargain for you. Choose to stay here. Choose to remain as my slave. Give up this naive _hope_ of going back to your own world, of finding a way to get Dryamon's collar off of you, of ever being anything more than someone's captive.” Faumon leaned in closer, his lips brushing past Takeru's ear. “Do that, and I'll take the collar off you. You'll be able to talk again.” 

Takeru froze, more from the feeling of Faumon so close to him than anything else. The offer rang against his ears, the temptation slithering all through him. To be able to use his voice again. To be … 

Well, that stopped it right there. Because he wouldn't be free. It was what he wanted, but at a price that would be too high. 

How best to convey this to Faumon? Oh, yes. The only way that would really make any sense and wouldn't end up with him having another bruise, if not worse. 

He reached over, picked up another dish, and made his way back with the stack before he started to wash them, his head held high, his back stiff and unrelenting. 

If there was one thing Takeru would never, ever do, it was give up his hope. 

* * *

Another day dragged by, and Faumon took every opportunity he could to give Takeru something to do. It wasn't to have him ocupy his time, but to simply wear him down, push him to the point where he would just give up. Takeru knew that, even if Faumon never said it. Faumon seldom said anything, aside from orders or taunting him about how no one seemed to want him, not Dryamon and not his friends. 

_They are going to come._ Takeru refused to let that go, either. It didn't matter if it were a foolish hope or not. It was his, and he kept it burnished bright and strong. 

Takeru wasn't all-inclusive in his hopes, though. He never even entertained the notion that Dryamon might show up. In point of fact, he made certain to hope that she never would. There was always the slim chance that Faumon would get bored with him and let him go, sooner or later. Then he could pick up his escape, and this time he wouldn't be so hungry or thirsty. Maybe he could even take some supplies with him. 

He thought about packing a few now, just in case, but decided that wasn't the brightest move. He had no idea of how long it might take Faumon to get bored with him, and he didn't want to end up with a bunch of soured fruits and rancid meat. 

He still didn't know where Faumon got the meat from. He'd never yet met a Digimon who didn't dissolve into data on death, so hunting probably wasn't the source. But perhaps there were trees that grew meat? It would make as much sense as anything else. 

If that were the case, he wanted to find out where these meat-trees were. If he couldn't carry a few steaks with him from Faumon's stores, then he could find some and carry them like that. 

Cooking. Cleaning. Washing. Scrubbing. Takeru had never done any of this on a regular basis before, though he'd formed the vague notion that if he attended college outside of Odaiba, he'd have to do it. He hadn't decided if that was what he wanted to do yet. His mother kept their apartment clean, and he'd done chores at school as well, of course, but none of that had been anything like this. 

The sun had just begun to touch the horizon when Takeru completed everything he needed to do, at least for now. Dinner would need cooking all too soon, but he stole the moments he could for a few breaths. 

“I think tomorrow we are going to take a little trip.” Faumon spoke up from where he lounged on his comfortable couch. Takeru knew how comfortable it was; he'd had to dust it before. He wasn't allowed to sit on it, of course. If he sat at all, it was on a small, hard stool. His bed, such as it was, wasn't that soft either. Faumon clearly did not believe in pampering his servant. 

Takeru glanced at him curiously. Where would Faumon want to go? And why would Takeru be taken with him? 

“Oh, it's nothing for you to worry your head about. I'm just visiting my family.” A smile hovered tauntingly over his lips and Takeru flinched. He'd only heard of one relative Faumon had, and it was the last one he wanted to see at all. “That's right. I'm going to see Dryamon. It won't have anything to do with you...well, not mostly. I suspect she doesn't entirely believe that you're in my possession. It wouldn't be the first time that I've lied to her.” The smile slashed even more dangerously across his features. “But I will enjoy proving it to her.” 

Takeru looked away, shrugging ever so slightly. He didn't want to see her, much less be shown off like some kind of a prized possession. He hardly had any way of stopping Faumon, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Faumon stretched long and Takeru kept his eyes turned away. There weren't many Digimon who had visible parts and most of those wore clothes anyway. Faumon both had them and didn't bother with clothes. Takeru tried not to notice. He had enough to do working. He didn't want a show. 

“You really don't need to go all that way to find me, _dear brother_ ,” a voice spoke that Takeru would've gone the rest of his life without hearing, and happily. He tried not to panic. He did his best to force his thoughts into commonplace, ordinary ones. 

_Is she going to stay for dinner? Will he want something special for her?_

_How did she get in here past his defenses?_

_Why is she here at all?_

That last one rang in so much panic he could barely think. Faumon and Dryamon both looked at him, then at each other, and their laughter echoed off the walls. 

“He is _so_ entertaining,” Dryamon said, shaking her head in dark amusement. “You can see why I want to keep him.” 

“You have your reasons and I have mine.” Faumon shrugged, then gestured toward Takeru. “Bring some wine for my esteemed guest. You know where I keep the very good vintages.” 

“Indeed.” Dryamon perched herself on one of the other chairs in the room: the very best on there, aside from the couch. “And that is why I'm here. I've come to negotiate for the return of my property.” 

**To Be Continued**


	6. Taste of Terror

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 6: Taste of Terror  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 2,129||story: 12,667  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

Takeru could not keep his hands from shaking the tiniest bit at Dryamon's announcement. Having to deal with one of them at a time shook him up enough. Both of them there caused every instinct in his head and heart to scream at the top of lungs it didn't possess to run and get out of there. He'd escaped Dryamon once before, surely he could do it again? He'd try, he'd try until he couldn't move before he gave up at all. 

He did not want to trust that Faumon wouldn't give him up. He didn't want to trust anything about any of this except his ability to flee and keep running. 

"You've certainly tamed him nicely," Dryamon said, amused eyes resting on Takeru as he moved over to get the wine Faumon ordered. "I will say that much for you." 

Faumon shrugged liquidly. "I will admit that your collar helped there. To dangle the hope in front of him that I might take it off, while persuading him to give up that hope in the first place?" His smile sent shudders all through Takeru. "I must admit, I've enjoyed that." 

"I am not surprised at all." Dryamon accepted the glass Takeru offered, a sly smile at the way the liquid shivered in the glass while he held it. "I would have expected nothing else from you, _dear brother_." 

Dryamon'd inflection on those two words caught at Takeru's attention. It wasn't anything that he'd ever heard before when it came to siblings. A mixture of hate and amusement, twisted emotions that he couldn't completely get a feel for. The only reason he wanted to try now was that it gave him something to think instead of the blinding terror that filled him whenever he was around these two. 

Faumon accepted his own glass, then caught his free hand around Takeru's arm and pulled him downward. "As the property in question, you should remain here." 

Takeru's gaze sliced toward both Digimon with all the fury he could muster. Neither of them seemed that impressed by it. Instead, Faumon sipped his wine and eyed the other Digimon. 

"Now, did you want to discuss terms and conditions now or wait until we've refreshed ourselves?" 

"I'm quite capable of conducting business and pleasure at the same time." Dryamon purred. Takeru shuddered and found one of the nearby bushes much more interesting to look at. 

"Of course you are." Faumon lounged backward, tracing one finger down the side of his glass. "What do you think of shared ownership of him? One half of the year he serves me, the other he serves you." 

Takeru violently shook his head. Neither of them paid the slightest bit of attention to his contribution. 

"Why would I do that when I can have him all the time? You _know_ why I want him," Dryamon hissed, leaning forward, eyes blazing brightly. Takeru's breath caught in his throat. Could he actually find out something here? 

Faumon waved one hand. "And I know who he can bring, and you know which ones I want to see." 

Takeru fought to remember what breathing was like at all. He had no desire to be here, or with either of them, at all, but if he had to be, at least he wanted to know _why_. This looked to be his best chance to find out. 

"There are multiple ways that you could lure them to where you want to be, and they don't involve keeping him." Dryamon's fingers flexed, her gaze resting on Takeru possessively. He could feel it, like a hand upon his skin, one that made that very skin crawl. 

Faumon's laughed echoed in Takeru's ears. "I know. But they are not nearly as much fun as seeing him so curious and so terrified at the same time is." His hand carded through Takeru's hair. "And so confused. He has _no idea_ of who we are or why he's so important to us." 

Her gown swished against the cool grass of Faumon's grove as Dryamon rose from her seat to come stand beside Takeru. "I know. I've made certain that he didn't know." A low chuckle sounded. "Not that he could've guessed. I don't think he would've ever imagined seeing either of us like this." 

Takeru did his level best to keep himself upright, not jerking away from either touch as Dryamon's hand came to rest against his cheek. He knew them. Or had known them. They'd taken different evolutionary paths than before; that much he knew also. But who they had _been_ , that continued to escape him. 

"We can tell him later. We still need to decide who keeps him until we have the others." Faumon tugged Takeru closer to him. "And right now, he belongs to me." 

"My collar begs to differ." Dryamon hissed, fingers flexing dangerously. "As do I." 

Faumon did not seem impressed at all. "I can remove it. Then where would you be?" 

Takeru's breath stuttered in his throat at the thought. Dryamon only shook her head. 

"You want to keep the thought hanging over him too much. And without it, he's really more trouble than he's worth to keep around." She reached out her hand to touch Takeru's cheek one more time and directed her next words to him. "We could leave the choice up to you. Do you wish to kneel at his feet or mine?" 

The mocking tone told Takeru there really was no question at all and he shook his head harder than before. He wouldn't choose either of them. They both knew that; they had to. He wasn't a toy to be argued over! 

Dryamon smiled, and Takeru wondered where he'd seen that smile before. It called up vague echoes, ones that brought to mind caverns and fleeing and fear. Thoughts and places he hadn't considered in many long years. 

"There is another option," Faumon said after a few moments. "We know that they're searching for him." 

Takeru's heart lurched in his chest at that. His friends? Was that who they meant? Could Patamon be with them? He _wanted_ that more than he wanted food or air right now. 

"Which is why I want this settled as soon as possible." Dryamon bit the words off. A dark frown touched on her lips as she spoke. "But what do you have in mind?" 

Faumon shifted a fraction closer. "Something akin to shared custody. I want Motomiya and Ichijouji. You want him. Having him will bring them, as well as the others. So, we allow them to locate him long enough to bring them where we can take them." 

_He wants Ken and Daisuke? Why? What did they do to him?_ Takeru's thoughts raced in narrowing circles, trying to remember all the villains they'd faced over the years and those who might take a personal vendetta against him or his friends. 

Narrowing the list wasn't easy. Most of the ones they'd fought tended to be on the vindictive side. He'd never thought about where they went after they were defeated, though. Digimon were always reborn as eggs, but he'd never seen one of their old enemies as a newly hatched Digimon. 

Or maybe he hadn't because they didn't remember? Or they'd taken a new line to evolve? 

That sent another chill through him and he glanced nervously at the two, now speaking to one another in tones so soft he couldn't hear what they said at all. All right, that wasn't new information at all, but the more he thought about their old enemies and who would want revenge, who might be willing to take years to get it, and who would want those particular people... 

The idea that began to form in the recesses of his mind wasn't one that he wanted to consider seriously. He shook his head, hoping to get rid of it. Hoping that it wasn't true, that it was just a passing fancy or a mistake. He wanted it to be a mistake. 

"I think he's starting to figure it out." Dryamon's malicious tones pulled him out of his internal whirl. She traced one finger against his cheek again. "Can you believe it?" 

Takeru shook his head yet again, though he had no idea if he did so to indicate a negative or just to get rid of her hand on him. If it was the latter, then it didn't succeed, as she kept her finger on him. Her smile called up madness and horror, terror and the intense need to run until he could run no more. 

Only one being had ever given him a feeling like that in his entire life. Takeru hated Devimon with all of his heart and soul, but Devimon had never entirely terrified him like this. Devimon meant loss and pain, anger that he couldn't always control. 

But Piemon meant something else altogether. Piemon meant the dropping of his friends one by one and the fear that he would never be good enough, that he would not be the Chosen Child of Hope, that he could not hope enough. 

The fact that he had, that they'd won in the end, didn't always stop the nightmares. All it meant was when he woke up in the middle of the night on those rare occasions when he had them, he remained grateful that they _were_ only dreams. 

Dryamon's smile inched up that quarter more. "Yes, I do think you've found it. Who would've imagined this, my dear Child of Hope?" The voice remained the same, but his imagination provided another tone to it, one that sent his heart racing and blood draining from his features. 

One slender finger tipped his head back, meeting his eyes. The ones which looked into his weren't those of Piemon, not to look at. But the terror they inspired in him was no different. 

"That's right," Dryamon murmured. "It's been _so_ long, hasn't it?" 

It hadn't been nearly long enough in Takeru's opinion. His eyes sliced quickly over to Faumon, who looked more bored than anything else. The one who wanted Ken and Daisuke. Takeru's throat closed and his eyes widened. 

"Oh, yes. I love that dawning look of horror on you." Dryamon ruffled his hair. "You know who he is now, don't you? My _dear brother_." There was more than enough of a sneer in the tone to bring back Piemon's voice to Takeru's mind. 

Faumon shrugged, a flash of a smirk twisting his lips at the same time. "I can't see why it took him so long to figure it out. Or to even think about it." 

"I'd imagine that he didn't want to. Denial is such a sad story." Dryamon stood up, brushing herself off. Takeru couldn't help but still think of her as 'her', even knowing who she'd once been. He hadn't known Piemon's evolutionary path could do something like this. Granted, he didn't know anything about Piemon's path to start with. 

Faumon leaned upward, eyes all on Dryamon now. "You can torment him later. Do you know if his friends are anywhere close to here?" 

"Not yet. But I think I know a way we can let them know where we are." Dryamon smirked archly at Faumon. "You don't mind losing your precious retreat here, do you?" 

"Yes, as it so happens, I do. But I can set up another place we can meet them at. It doesn't matter and they wouldn't know the difference even if it did." Faumon drummed his fingers on his thigh for a heartbeat or two. "We need to make certain that they can't get out of it either." 

Dryamon shrugged. "That shouldn't be too hard." She gave Takeru another arch look. "But I don't think he needs to know anything about this. What he doesn't know, he can't try to interrupt." 

"You're right about that." Faumon straightened up, pulling Takeru around to stare at him. "I won't be in this form forever and when I regain my _proper_ evolution, I still want to taste him." 

That received a casual waved hand from Dryamon. "I'll allow it once. But for now, our little toy needs a nap." 

Takeru almost didn't hear it at first, even with Faumon staring into his face. Nothing more than a low hum to begin with, but one that slowly evolved into a soft melody that wound all around him and stilled his limbs and clouded his thoughts. His eyelids fluttered and he wanted to try to fight, but to no avail at all. 

He knew that he shouldn't even close his eyes in the presence of his enemies. But knowing didn't stop it from happening. He barely realized it when he toppled over into Faumon's arms, Dryamon's laughter still clear in his ears. 

**To Be Continued**


	7. Heroes and Villains

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 7: Heroes and Villains  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 3,222||story: 15,889  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Adventue Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

Takeru wished he knew what the Digital World remedy for a headache was. Somehow in all of his years visiting, he'd never really had the need for one until now. Whenever any of them developed a headache, someone always turned up with aspirin or they just had to suffer through it. 

Right now, his option was 'suffer through it' and he wasn't enjoying it any more than he'd ever thought he would. 

He did his best to keep his eyes closed, though he wasn't certain if having them open would do any good either. He'd cracked them once and been assaulted by brilliant light, sending sharp stabs of pain all through his head. 

_I never thought of light as **painful** before._ First time for everything, he guessed. It wasn't really the major issue of the moment. Starring at the top of those charts were Dryamon and Faumon. 

Or Piemon and Vamdemon; he knew the one had been the other, but trying to wrap his head around his old enemies in these fresh new bodies still gave him as much of a headache as everything else going on since the moment he'd first seen Dryamon had. 

He tried to take another peek, a smaller one this time, in the hopes that would give him a better view of what was going on. It didn't; the light still gleamed far too bright all around him. It reminded him somewhat of the spotlights he'd seen used at Yamato's concerts, only a lot brighter and much, much more painful. 

Well, spotlights certainly ran well with Piemon and his attitude. Until he had something else to call it, that was what this would be: a spotlight. Having a name to put to it gave him the chance to put that aside and start trying to figure out what else was going on. 

The two of them wanted to lure Ken and Daisuke, and probably the rest of the Chosen, to wherever they were, and do unspecified revenge oriented things to them. He wasn't just the bait; Piemon apparently considered him his property now, most likely due to Holy Angemon having been the one who defeated him all those years ago. 

_And he'll do it again if I can get out of here and find him._ Takeru strained at the cuffs that bound him to what he thought was a long pole. It was a pole of some kind, at the very least, and it rose up over his head an unspecified distance. He'd never realized how much he used his eyes until he couldn't anymore. Much like his voice. 

He tried speaking, just to see if somehow or other he could again. To his lack of surprise, nothing came out. He would deal with that later. Somehow. 

He had no idea of where his two captors were or what they were doing. For all that he knew, they were sitting back with drinks and snacks and watching him struggle in his chains, enjoying his confusion. 

Takeru concentrated, trying to hear anything that would give him some kind of a clue as to what was going on. He couldn't be here _completely_ alone; there would be guards of some kind if nothing else, even if Dryamon and Faumon - he decided to call them that, it didn't jar so much when he thought about how they looked now, and if he wasn't actually looking at Dryamon he could laugh at the thought of this being what Piemon evolved from - weren't there themselves. 

When he wasn't wriggling around enough to make the chains that bound him ring, he could hear more. It wasn't much, but more than he had. Voices, ones that rang a bit familiar, though not because he wanted them to, not because he knew them like he knew his friends. BlackAgumon and Dark Lizamon. He recognized both of them. He wasn't sure where their Gazimon friend was, but guessed he either hadn't said anything or was somewhere else. There likely weren't many other options. 

All right, that told him who his guards were. He couldn't figure out what they were saying, but when the others showed up, he knew who they'd have to face. He wasn't putting a lot of money on those three being able to handle _any one_ of his friends, let alone all of them. 

Frankly, even after all this time, if he'd had the option, he would've just let Yamato take care of it all. It would probably take about five minutes and end with a fascinating 'crunch' sound. He would've done much the same if Yamato had been in his position. The two of them had their differences but they both agreed on this: no one messed with family. It was Not Done. 

He had no idea of how long he'd remained under Faumon's sleeping spell. His enemies not only weren't being polite enough to let him see what was going on, but he honestly wasn't even certain of how much time had passed since the day Dryamon kidnapped him. 

_When I get back home, I'm going to plaster my room with calendars._ He didn't like being that disjointed in time. He suspected that was exactly what the two of them wanted. He'd never gotten to know them on a personal basis before, but after his time spent with them now, that seemed right up their alley. 

Without warning, a hand cupped his chin and tilted his head upward. He caught his breath, teeth grinding in surprise and anger, more so when he heard Dryamon's all too familiar chuckle. 

"They're coming. They know where we are and they're heading right for us." One thumb brushed across his cheek and Takeru yanked his head to the side, not wanting that touch for so much as a moment. "Careful, child. The knowledge that we have you is our bait. They've taken the bait. _You_ don't have to actually be here." 

Takeru's heart twisted, acknowledging the truth of that. Any kind of deception could lead the others to believe that he was, while he remained in Dryamon's lair or Faumon's retreat, unable to escape. Ideas sparked by plans other opponents they'd faced over the years swirled through the back of his mind, ones that could be used to devastating effect, such as digital clones or Bakemon in disguise. 

From the way his breath suddenly stuttered in his lungs and the soft, far too amused chuckle that came from Dryamon, that was exactly what the other wanted him to think. 

Again Dryamon'd hand touched his cheek and while Takeru didn't want to let it happen, he kept his head as steady as he could. _It'll take me a week to wash that off._ This was going to be their downfall. If they really were as smart as they thought, they would've left him somewhere safe anyway and set up that copy or spy or whatever else they had in mind, not leave him here where he could and _would_ be rescued. 

Finally Dryamon pulled that hand away and patted him on the head in the most condescending manner possible. "There's nothing like seeing a rescue almost happen to crush hope forever, is it?" 

Oh, so that was their plan. Takeru squared his shoulders and shook his head in absolute negation. Whether or not he remained here, he wouldn't give up what made him what he was, least of all because of anything that _they_ did to him. That was what they wanted. Takeru dug in his heels and refused. He'd learned a lot of lessons from Daisuke about being stubborn over the years. 

Faumon spoke up. "They've almost crossed the barrier." 

Takeru's heart skipped half a dozen beats, a light sweat breaking out all over. He still had no idea of how long it had been, but the thought of at least knowing his friends were there, even if he couldn't see them or speak to them, sent a warmth through him that he'd never thought he'd feel again. 

He could hear feet of various kinds skittering here and there, wings whispering through the air, as the enemy forces set themselves up. He tried cracking an eye again and closed it just as quickly. That spotlight hadn't moved off of him. He was also going to invest in a pair of sunglasses when he had the chance. 

Again Dryamon touched the side of his face. "I want you to be a very good boy now, my dear Takeru. Don't try to get away. I'd hate to have to truly get angry at someone because you made me mad. Say, your brother?" 

Takeru set his jaw and made no response. He wouldn't make any promises, and even if he had, he wouldn't have kept them, not to this person, of all creatures he knew. Dryamon's chuckle set his teeth on edge but the Digimon said nothing more, apparently moving away. That suited Takeru. He thought he also heard Faumon leaving, and wondered if they planned to hide and perform a surprise attack. 

_I have to let the others know who they really are._ The collar wouldn't allow him to speak, and his friends needed to know before they could get it off of him anyway. The chains kept him from using his hands or feet in any significant way, which left him only one option. 

And all he had was the hope that neither of his enemies would notice anything. 

* * *

If Yamato found himself in possession of a sword or any other weapon that would do actual, real damage to a Digimon, then he would've spent every ounce of his strength using it on either of the two that stood before them now. They'd both committed the same offense, and it wasn't one he'd ever been able to forgive and forget, especially when those who did it didn't show a single scrap of remorse. 

If anything, these two looked as if they would do it all over again if the opportunity were handed to them, and go out of their way to make it worse the second time around. 

Dryamon lounged backward on empty air, a smug little smirk hovering over her lips that Yamato could've spent the next ten years pounding and still not get enough of it. 

"These are your options, Chosen Children. You two," Dryamon motioned to Ken and Daisuke, "surrender to him," and now one elegant hand flicked toward Faumon, who remained enthroned on a visible chair apparently woven from grass and tree branches. "And we won't kill my precious little toy here." 

Yamato tried not to look at Takeru. He'd taken one quick glance, enough to assure himself that his brother remained alive, and that was it. He didn't know what they'd done to him in all the time that he'd been gone, and he remained convinced that he didn't want to know. 

"How can we even be certain this is Takeru?" Ken asked, folding his arms over his chest, head held high. "This could be anything or anyone." 

Yamato figured if any of them could see that, it would be Ken. He'd never thank the younger one for being the Digimon Kaiser, but if it gave them an edge, no matter how small, then it could be useful. 

Dryamon's fingers brushed through Takeru's hair. "I'd ask him to speak to identify himself, but you still wouldn't believe that, I'm certain." Her smile slashed across her features, sending a dizzying chill all through Yamato. Was it familiar? How could it be? 

"There's another reason as well," Faumon spoke up, every bit as amused as his sister. He leaned over and prodded at the collar visible around Takeru's neck. "This." "Ah, yes." Dryamon touched it herself and Yamato could see the ripple in Takeru's jaw as he visibly ached to pull himself away. "So long as he wears this, he won't be able to say a word. So, you're simply going to have to trust us on this." She turned her attention back to Ken and Daisuke. "It's up to you. His life is in your hands. Are you going to surrender, or not?" 

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "You forgot the other option. The one where we kick both your butts and all your friends' butts and take Takeru home with us." 

Dryamon and Faumon both laughed, taking a handful of steps away from Takeru, one to each side. "If you think that you can, then do try," Dryamon taunted. "We're certainly ready to take you on." 

Something wasn't right here. Yamato glanced over to Koushirou, who had his laptop out, Miyako hovering beside him, one set of black eyes and one of brown narrowed as they checked out the Digimon Analyzer's results on these two. 

"They're both Perfect levels," Miyako reported, attention darting back and forth from the laptop to their enemies. "Nothing higher than that here." 

Something _really_ wasn't right. Eleven Digimon, each one skilled in fighting and able to evolve to Ultimate, could easily take on everything that they were faced with here. And yet Faumon and Dryamon both looked as if this fight were something they not only wanted, but eagerly anticipated. He'd seen overconfident enemies before, or even ones that were reasonably competent and had many plans to work with, but this just did not feel _right_. 

"If you won't give yourselves over, then we'll just take you ourselves," Faumon said at last. With the wave of one hand to guide them, the Digimon circling the area all began to move in. 

For the first few moments, almost no one could see what was going on, with all of the light of evolution filling the area. Yamato did what he could to keep his attention on Takeru, not trusting the two evil Digimon not to try something with all of the distracting lights and sounds going on. 

That was what gave him the warning, perhaps the only one that they stood a chance to get in all of this chaos. Yamato noticed Takeru's lips moving. Perhaps he couldn't speak, but his lips formed words anyway. 

At first Yamato wasn't certain of what his brother wanted to say. A dozen options offered themselves, each more confusing than the last, and it seemed as if the words changed as well. Takeru's eyes shifted back and forth, attention going from Faumon to Dryamon and then back. And each time, the shape his lips made differed. 

Then it clicked, and Yamato's blood turned to ice in his veins. Making certain that he caught Takeru's attention, he glanced first at Dryamon and mouthed the same word he was almost certain Takeru had, then to Faumon and repeated it with that word. 

Not just a word. A name. Two names. Two names that made him sick to his stomach, because _how_? How and why? 

Piemon. Vamdemon. 

Now he understood. Now he wanted to howl the information at the top of his lungs, and let everyone know how much trouble they were in. 

_It's not as bad as it could be,_ he told himself, drawing in a deep and long breath. _They're not as powerful as they were._ He wanted to now how this had happened but now wasn't the time for discussion of evolutionary levels and paths. 

"Guys! We have to be careful!" 

He managed to get out no more than that before clawed hands closed around his throat, choking him off, and he stared into Dark Lizamon's hideous features. "You talk too much," the Digimon growled. "Don't do that." 

Yamato could see Garurumon hovering, ready to attack at a moment's notice, but held back by the twisted lizard's grip around his throat. He tried to step back, wanting at least a few breaths of fresh air, but another set of claws pricked into his back, and he did not want to see who was back there. Besides, from the way he could now see Greymon glaring behind him, he had a good idea of who it was. They'd all seen the BlackAgumon with Dryamon's forces. 

Yamato didn't think he'd had a good day since Takeru's abduction. Today didn't look as if it were shaping up to be any different. 

* * *

Ken wasn't certain of what Yamato wanted to tell them, but it had to be important, whatever it was. Otherwise, Dryamon and Faumon's minions wouldn't have gone to all of this trouble to make certain they didn't know it. Therefore, finding out what it was currently held top billing in his mental chart of what to do, ranking equally to "anything necessary to get Takeru out of those chains and that collar off of him". 

After all the years of fighting alongside Daisuke, it took only a moment to catch his partner's attention and jerk his head just the tiniest bit, a wealth of information passing between them in that single moment. Daisuke nodded, then shouted a battle cry at the top of his lungs, leaped onto XV-mon's back, and charged forward, one fist raised in the air. 

_Some things never change._ Ken allowed himself one small smile before leaping onto Stingmon's back and gripping onto his shoulders. It wasn't as easy as it had been when he'd been eleven, but for what he had in mind, Stingmon wouldn't need to carry him for very long nor very far. 

Most of the Chosen and their partners surged toward the battlefield, providing even more distraction to go along with Daisuke's. Ken focused on where Yamato remained in Dark Lizamon's grip, BlackAgumon at his back. This would have to be fast. 

He and Stingmon could do fast. _Very_ fast. 

At just the right moment, he swung himself away from Stingmon and tackled BlackAgumon, knocking him from behind Yamato. In nearly the same moment, Stingmon struck at Dark Lizamon, tackling him away from the older blond. Yamato stumbled a little, shook his head, one hand rising to his neck to check for injuries. 

Ken drew himself up and stared down at BlackAgumon. The look he gave wasn't one of the Digimon Kaiser, but it showed to anyone that Ken was not one to be trifled with, not when his friends were the line. BlackAgumon, however, did not appear to translate the message properly, as he drew his head back and prepared to blow a fireball at him. 

Taichi had told the younger Chosen once about how he'd lifted and hauled Agumon around during their first trip to the Digital World. It hadn't been easy but he'd managed it. Ken, on the other hand, had two advantages while dealing with BlackAgumon. First, he wasn't eleven years old, but eighteen, with years of judo training to his experience. 

Second, he wasn't especially interested in _not_ hurting this Digimon that had threatened his friend. 

"Hey! You nearly hit me!" Daisuke's voice rang from the thick of the battle, and Ken looked over to see BlackAgumon just now recovering from being thrown, and apparently missing Daisuke by the skin of his teeth. 

"Sorry," Ken apologized, before he turned to Yamato. "Are you all right?" 

Yamato nodded, turning his full attention to the battlefield, and filling his lungs suddenly. Ken tensed; this was going to be impressive. 

"Everyone! Watch out for Dryamon and Faumon!" He drew in one more breath. "They're Piemon and Vamdemon!" 

**To Be Continued**


	8. Angel To Guard Me

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Digimon Adventure 02  
 **Title:** Take Off The Collar: Chapter 8: Angel To Guard Me  
 **Characters:** Takeru  
 **Word Count:** chapter: 3,091||story: 18,980  
 **Genre:** Drama|| **Rated:** PG  
 **Challenge:** This was written for the Adventue Calendar Challenge, day #5; Diversity Writing Challenge, section I, #18, a multichap with chapters over 2000 words; Monthly Restrict #2, one character cannot speak at all.  
 **Notes:** This takes place sometime after the defeat of BelialVamdemon. You can imagine the 02 epilogue or not, as you please.  
 **Summary:** Takeru wants a lot of things as he flees through the Digital World. His D-3, his D-Terminal, his Digimon partner, his friends. His voice.

* * *

Takeru relaxed for a few heartbeats, leaning his head back against the pole. The looks on the faces of all the other Chosen ranged from absolutely horrified to extremely ticked off, which about summed up his own impression of the situation. 

_Now if we just knew what else we could do about this!_ It couldn't be as hard as it had once been to defeat these two, could it? They weren't as highly evolved as they'd been, and there were plenty of Chosen to stand with them as well. 

Dryamon rested a hand on his shoulder and he pulled away automatically only for a moment, before her grip tightened in warning. "So you know our secret. We didn't intend to keep it long, regardless. But this changes nothing." She released her hold only long enough to trace one finger up Takeru's cheek. "He still belongs to me, and you two," the other hand now gestured toward Ken and Daisuke, "still will surrender yourselves. I don't _want_ to hurt him, but if you don't...I hear that humans heal from so many things, in time. I rather would like to see it for myself." 

Before Ken or Daisuke could say a word, Taichi stepped forward, eyes blazing with righteous fury. "Why do you want them, when we were the ones who beat you the first time?" He jerked his head toward Yamato, whose eyes hadn't left Takeru for a single moment. "Or did you forget that?" 

"As if I ever could," Faumon's blue eyes sparked with rage of his own. "But _they_ were the ones who ruined my most glorious plan, and having them in my grip will be a sweet enough revenge on _you_ anyway." He bared his teeth, and while he did not have Vamdemon's fangs, they did seem just a fraction sharper than they should have. "Of course, if you two wish to surrender to me as well, I will _gladly_ accept that." 

"Not a chance," Yamato snapped, still not bother to move his attention from his brother. "We're getting Takeru back and putting you all down for good!" 

Dryamon laughed, head tilted back, completely amused. "And how do you expect to do that? You've never been able to do it before, and you've learned nothing new that would help you now!" 

"We'll find a way!" Daisuke declared, fists clenched and fury bright. "You can't stop us!" 

Again Dryamon's hand brushed across Takeru's cheek. "I wouldn't be so certain of that. I said it before. I don't want to hurt him, but so long as he's still alive, he can heal from it." 

Takeru tensed, drawing in a long, deep breath, and shook his head. He wanted out of this and he wanted to make certain that these two never hurt anyone else, ever again. It didn't matter that he didn't know how. That was what he wanted. That was what he ached for in all of his deepest heart. 

That was what he hoped for. 

And the hopes of Takaishi Takeru had their own way of making miracles happen. 

"Takeru!" The cry echoed from all around, in a voice that Takeru hadn't thought he would hear until he somehow made it back home. They wouldn't have brought him along, would they? It wasn't the best idea, not without him having his D-3. 

And yet from above a light glowed, one that he'd seen far too many times to count, and one that fanned the flames of hope in his heart higher than they'd ever been before. 

He jerked his head up, eyes going wide, wanting to see this for himself. From what he heard Dryamon and Faumon both saying - none of it even remotely polite - he knew that he was right, but he had to _see it_ to truly believe it. 

"Patamon evolve to...Angemon!" He caught only a brief glimpse of his small orange partner before the light swallowed the form up entirely, glistening white feathers circling all around. 

_He's here..._ If he could've spoken, he would've shouted Angemon's name to the highest heavens. As it was, his lips only formed the word, and he could feel the pressure on his throat that told him of how loudly he wanted to speak. 

The light faded away, revealing Angemon in all of his glory. Takeru's heart skipped a beat or two out of nothing but joy. 

Dryamon'd hand landed firmly on his shoulder once again, grip tightening until he gasped in pain. "I don't know how you got here, but you'd best stay back, for the boy's safety, Angemon." 

"I've never backed away from evil when it threatened the world, and I'll certainly not back away from it if you threaten my partner!" Angemon declared. Takeru smiled through the pain of the grip. Some things simply never changed. "And if you two know what's good for you, then you'll leave him be, now!" 

"That's not going to happen," Faumon declared, standing on Takeru's other side. "You don't really think we're ignorant enough to leave our hostage behind, do you?" 

"I think you might be smart enough to know when you've been defeated," Angemon replied tartly. "Though given that you've done this in the first place, I might not be so certain of it." 

Takeru soundlessly laughed. He still wasn't certain of how Patamon had evolved, but he wasn't going to ask questions. Now just wasn't the time. Instead, he wriggled in his chains, trying to find a way to get out of them. Despite all that Angemon said, it would be next to impossible for them to fight with him there. 

"All right, we've all had enough of this," Daisuke declared, taking a few steps forward. "You want a fight? Then we came here to fight!" 

Seeing Angemon's evolution up close brought a sense of safety and warmth to Takeru. But seeing everyone else start to evolve to their highest forms brought a sense of _this is going to be fantastic._ He'd never really ached for battle the way Taichi or Daisuke did at times. But when it came down to it, he knew it needed to be done at times, and now was one of those times. 

The fact this was going to get him away from two Digimon that ranked high on the short list of those he genuinely loathed was a bonus. A very sweet one at that. 

"Holy Rod!" Angemon shot downward from above, aiming his staff for Dryamon. The former Piemon dodged out of the way, but only just barely, the staff striking across her shoulders and sending her spinning instead of into the controlled leap she wanted to make. She whirled to regain her balance, coming back up with her hair writhing as if it were a nest of snakes. 

"I've wanted to destroy you for _years_ , Angemon! The one thing he and I could never agree on was who would get the honor of being the one to reformat you into something more suitable," Dryamon hissed, eyes shimmering an unholy scarlet. "But I think right now, I just want you to _die_!" 

Angemon stood between Dryamon and Takeru, staff at the ready, head held high. "If you think you can." 

Takeru caught sight of a quick movement out of the corner of his eye and reacted on nothing but instinct, jerking one foot upward. He'd been chained to the pole only by his wrists, which left his feet free to move. Faumon learned how that was a bad idea as he stumbled over Takeru's outstretched leg. 

"You little..." The affable tone he'd affected since finding Takeru vanished, and if the blond had ever once thought that he wasn't Vamdemon once learning of it, said doubt vanished now. "You'll be the first one that I feed from!" 

Takeru just rolled his eyes, especially as Angemon loomed up behind the former vampire. 

"Actually," another voice spoke, and Angewomon stood there, shoulders squared and head as high as Angemon's, "would you let me deal with him?" 

There was no hint of the fear Takeru suspected that Angewomon might feel at yet another return of her former master. If it was there, she kept it tightly under control. 

Angemon nodded calmly. "Of course." He turned his full attention back to Dryamon, just as that one's hair shot forward, half a dozen spears of darkness flying from the depths of the unruly mass. Angemon took to the higher skies, wings tucked in close to avoid being hit. Dryamon hung only a little behind him, rage fueling her every movement. 

The only enemy Digimon on the battlefield who were still in condition to fight were Dryamon and Faumon. Those Digimon who could fly took to the air to support Angemon, save for Angewomon, while those who were ground-bound circled Faumon, ready to give the female angel any support she needed. 

"Nothing you do can destroy us forever," Faumon hissed, keeping himself within range of Takeru. "We're just like you: Digimon. We always return." 

Angewomon shrugged her shoulders. "It can take you a while to come back, and we'll always be ready to fight you when you do, no matter what form you take. You should know that by now." 

"Then let's fight!" Faumon smiled, a quick slash of unholy delight across his features, and darted toward Angewomon with all due speed. 

* * *

Something about this struck Takeru as wrong, the longer it drew on. This fight had to happen; Faumon and Dryamon weren't just going to release him and apologize, no matter how much he wished they would. But it didn't feel right at the same time. 

_They want this fight. Why?_ Somewhere, a piece was missing, the piece that would click this all into a coherent whole. Not having that rubbed a raw place in his mind. 

_They want to become Piemon and Vamdemon again. Koushirou said they were Perfect levels now. Evolving to Ultimate isn't easy._ Not all of their group had done it, though from Koushirou's calculations, some of them were closer than others. Being bonded to humans made it a little easier, but for other Digimon, they needed either a boost from something else or to fight a lot. 

Fighting... 

Takeru's gaze flicked back and forth between the two battles going on. Dryamon and Faumon both darted and dodged this way and that, striking with whatever weapons and attacks they had, and when they were struck by any of their opponents, they didn't so much look upset, as they did _hopeful_. 

The realization dawned like the rising sun. _They want us to fight them. They can't evolve if we don't fight them._

It made so much sense that it sickened him. Of course they would want to fight. Of course they would want their enemies to fight them. It would give them exactly what they'd been aiming for all this time. 

Fury lit his blood aflame. He stomped as hard as he could on the ground, wanting to get this through to the others. Faumon kept too close to him for Yamato or any of them to get to him, while Dryamon kept Angemon and the other fliers busy in the skies. He couldn't tell if they knew that he knew, but their tactics alone kept him from passing the word along. This was a message too complicated to try for lip reading as he had before. 

He banged his head on the pole, more out of raw frustration than anything else. There had to be a way through all of this. but whatever it was, it was one he couldn't yet see, and he had no idea of how much longer it would take. 

"Hey, watch it," Daisuke's voice came from behind him without warning. "If you give yourself a concussion, Angemon's never going to forgive us." 

Takeru twisted his head around as much as his neck would allow to stare into Daisuke's face. What in the world was _he_ doing here? 

Not just him, but Ken as well, and Ken bent over his chained wrists, a faint clinking coming from the bonds. Takeru couldn't speak, but his eyes conveyed all of his confusion as they worked. 

"We're getting you out of here, that's what we're doing," Daisuke murmured, watching out for Faumon as he did. "Once they can't threaten you anymore, this whole thing is done!" 

Takeru shook his head harder than ever before. They had to _not_ fight, that was the key to all of this! Not that he was going to stay here, but...but this was all too confusing and he didn't like it at all. In all truth, he couldn't imagine anything about this that he had liked since the first moment Dryamon descended. 

"What do you mean?" Ken asked, peeking up at him for a bare moment before going back to picking the locks. Takeru wondered where Ken had learned how to do that, and also wondered if it were something that he probably shouldn't ask questions about. Ken knew a lot of things. It wasn't always a good idea to find out why. 

Takeru frowned, wanting to figure out some way to get across what he had in mind. If he had his D-Terminal...that was it! He skimmed over both Ken and Daisuke, until he saw a familiar bulge in Daisuke's jacket, and nodded his head toward it. Daisuke glanced at where his eyes rested, then pulled it out. 

"My D-Terminal? Or yours? Miyako has yours right now. Angemon has your D-3. I think that's how he was able to evolve when you didn't have it." Daisuke shrugged. "I didn't ask." Not that Takeru blamed him. There hadn't been time to quiz anyone about what was going on. He intended to get right to that as soon as all of this mess ended. 

Takeru bobbed his head toward the D-Terminal in answer to Daisuke's question. It didn't matter which one he had, so long as he had something he could type on. He'd never gone so long without at least trying to write something during the course of a day and he'd had no idea of how much he missed it. 

A moment later, the cuffs popped off, and he pulled his wrists around, rubbing at them to get the circulation going again. He tugged automatically at the collar, making a face. Ken started toward it, but Takeru shook his head, holding his hand out for the D-Terminal. He wasn't sure what they knew or didn't know, so he had a lot to cover and the sooner he got started, the better. 

The battle still raged on, and Ken and Daisuke urged him away from where Faumon danced the dance of charge and retreat with Angewomon, Armadimon, WereGarurumon, Metal Greymon, and Zudomon. Takeru typed one-handed, holding the D-Terminal in the other, almost dropping it when Yamato wrapped his arms around him in a warm welcome. 

"I've been worried about you. Mom and Dad have been too," his brother murmured, and Takeru could feel Yamato shaking just a little, as he hadn't since Takeru was a child himself. "Are you all right?" 

Takeru nodded; the only thing that wasn't right was the collar, and he could get that fixed up soon enough now that he was free. He looked back at the D-Terminal and decided this was enough, flipping it around for everyone else to see. 

_We need to stop fighting them! They want to evolve back to Piemon and Vamdemon, and the more we fight them, the easier that will be for them. The easiest way to defeat them now is just to leave them be._ It wasn't much, but it got the message across, and that was all he'd wanted. 

Taichi moved up behind Yamato, peering over his shoulder to see what Takeru wrote. He blinked a few times. "Are you sure about this?" Takeru nodded without hesitation. He hadn't heard it from them, but it was the only thing that made complete sense out of everything they'd done. 

Taichi nodded himself, then tilted his head back and yelled at the top of his lungs. "That's enough! We've got Takeru, let's get out of here!" 

On the heels of his words came others, ones that sent chills throughout Takeru and everyone else there. 

_Too late._

"Dryamon evolve to...Piemon!" 

A sphere of dark shadows enveloped Dryamon almost at the same moment Takeru saw where she hung in the sky, battered from Angemon's strikes, but with a thrill of victory in her voice all the same. The last word, the last name, came spoke in a voice that all of them had hoped never to hear again, and as the shadows faded, a shape appeared that matched it. 

Piemon, lord of the Dark Masters, stood on thin air, laughing with all of his might. 

Swifter than any of them could react, he dropped down to where Faumon still stood, surrounded by the ground bound Digimon, and picked him up by the shoulders. "We've put in enough playtime with all of you. But you'll see us again, you may count on that." 

Faumon began to say something but whatever he had in mind never was heard as Piemon pulled him out of sight. 

For a few heartbeats, everyone remained still. The fliers landed one by one, looking at each other and their partners. Takeru remained tense as the moments slipped away, before he began to accept that they were gone, and he was still with his friends and family. 

Angemon's arms around him were warm and strong and Takeru leaned into the embrace, breathing softly. The rest of the Chosen circled around, babbling happily about his return and how much they'd missed him and how much trouble the return of Piemon could cause for them all. 

Takeru felt his head being tilted back and saw Angemon staring at the collar, displeasure in what could be seen of his features. After all these years, he'd learned to read that face quite well. 

"Can we get that off you?" Angemon asked, and Takeru nodded without hesitation. He gestured from Angemon to all the other Digimon, not wanting to let go of Angemon long enough to use a D-Terminal to put everything into words. "One of us can do it?" Besides, Angemon knew him well enough to figure out what he wanted to say. 

That got another nod, and Angemon smiled, resting one finger on it for a heartbeat before he slid it underneath, and jerked upwards. The collar fell away from Takeru's neck, snapped in half. 

And he could speak again. 

**The End**


End file.
